*Interview with Gabe Hines*
--_Gertha Couric_
_GABE WAS KIDNAPPED BY CARPETBAGGERS_
Old Gabe had been long in this world--close to one hundred years. He had
experienced much but one incident had out-lasted all the others--even
the stroke that made him older and more feeble. That experience had
caused Gabe and his "ole woman" to stray far from the fold and to walk
all the way back to its shelter.
That was back in Reconstruction days, when he was not "bandy in his
knees" and long before Anna left him alone in his cabin with just
memories of earlier and happier days.
Gabe was "birthed in Cusseta, Georgia," the son of two faithful old
slaves, Hetty and Gabe Hines, and they "all 'longed to Marsa William
Shipp an' Miss Ma'y. He told his story thus:
"Endurin' of de Wah, I was big enough to be water toter on de
plantation. No, Li'l Missy, I doan' 'zactly know how old I is 'ceptin'
by de squeakin' an' achin' of my bones. I 'members lots 'bout doze days.
Dem was happy times, Li'l Missy. Arter we all was freed, I went to
Silver Run to live and dar I mahied Anna. She lef' me nine yeahs ago an'
that broke the happiness. I miss her ev'whar, jes' keep a-missin' her
though nine yeahs hev gone since dey tuk her from de cabin an' lef' her
up thar on de hill. Dere's nights when de mis'ry in dese ol' bones jist
gits past standin' an' on sich nights she come ter me and holp me wid de
linnymint jes' as she useter do. But she caint stay long when she come.
"I was a-tellin' 'bout Silver Run. Arter we was mahied and was gittin'
use to bein' free niggahs, an' happy in our cabin, one night a gen'ulman
from de no'th was to see us an' he tol' us if we'd go wid him he'd pay
us big wages an' gin us a fine house to boot.
"Fer two nights we sot dere by dat chimbly a-thinkin' a sight to do or
to don't and ponderin' this way and t'other one. Den we 'cided to go. We
lef ev'y thing dar 'ceptin' whut we tied up in a bandana han'chief, and
we tied that onto a stick for de gen'ulman from de no'th wouldn't let us
take no baggage. We was goin' to Columbus, Georgia, but we didn't know
dat.
"Li'l Missy, when we got dar, whar he was a-takin' us, we foun' the big
wages to be fifty cents a month, and dat fine house tu'ned out to be mo'
like a stable. Instid of our cabin and gyarden and chickens and our
trees, we had a turrible place, right out under the hot sun wid watah
miles away down a hill. And he wan't no gent'man from de no'th!
"Missy, I nebber will be able to tell myself whut made us do hit no mo'
den I'll ebber be able to tell how skeered I was one night when de wind
howled an' de lightnin' was sprayin' ober de place an' de rain was so
turrible hit was a-sobbin' in de fire. We knowed de debbil was ridin' de
win' dat night.
"We was a-sittin' dar befo' de fire, me an' my ol' woman, when we heard
a stompin' like a million horses had stopped outside de do'. We tipped
to de do' an' peeked out an', li'l Missy, whut we seed was so turrible
our eyes jes' mos' popped out our haid. Dere was a million hosses all
kivered in white, wid dey eyes pokin' out and a-settin' on de hosses was
men kivered in white too, tall as giants, an' dey eyes was a-pokin' out
too. Dere was a leader an' he heldt a bu'nin' cross in his hand.
"When we seed dat, we fell on our po' knees, skeered mos' to def an' we
axed de Great Marster to holp two po' ol' niggers an' holp 'em quick.
"De fust thing we knowed dem Ku Kluxes had de gen'man from de no'th out
of his hidin' place 'hind our house an' a-settin' on one of dem hosses.
Dey nebber spoke wid him. Dey jes' tuk him off somewhar, we nebber
knowed whar, but he di'n't come back no mo'.
"Li'l Missy, we heard arterwards dat dis gen'lman from de no'th was no
qual'ty a-tall. Dat he was de wu'st leadah of all de debilment bein'
done; one of dem carpet-baggin' men.
"Nex' day arter de Ku Kluxes cotched dis man, his wife lef' Columbus in
a hurry, sayin' she couldn't sociate wid de Columbus ladies 'caze dey
was so po'. Dey wa po'! Dey is no denyin' that. We was all po' caze the
Yankees done ruint Columbus. But, li'l Missy, dey's a big dif'ence in
bein' po' an' qual'ty and' bein' jes po' white trash.
[Illustration: _Gabe Hines, Eufaula, Alabama_]
"What did I do then? Well, li'l Missy, we lef' Columbus arter whut
happen'd an' we walked to Eufaula, whar twas safe to be. For forty yeahs
I w'uked for de city and Anna, she tuk in washin'. Endurin' dat time we
was gettin' along pretty likely, when one day Gabriel blew his horn for
Anna, and Gabe was lef' alone.
"My ol' woman's gone. Li'l Missy, mos' ev'y one I knowed is daid. Dis
heah cabin ain' home to me no mo'. Hits lonely ev'y whar. Maybe I'd
orter be thinkin' 'bout Canaan, but hits ol' times crowds dis ol'
darkey's heart. Li'l Missy, may be whin I gits to whar Anna is hit will
be ol' times all ovah ag'in."